A Line In The Sand: Deleted Scenes
by Phoenix Moon 13
Summary: The deleted Curse of the Black Pearl scenes from my fic A Line In The Sand. James and Victoria aboard the Dauntless, after his engagement and on the nights before and after Jack's hanging. Amongst others. OC warning.
1. Scene 1

_**A Line In The Sand: Deleted Scenes  
**_**Scene 1: How Miss Turner Was Entertained Aboard _The Dauntless_**

Author's Note: Ok, so it occurred to me that I really hadn't done much with the _Curse of the Black Pearl_ – it was all over in one chapter. And I think I could have done it more justice. And it just wouldn't leave me alone. So, here are the major scenes from _Curse of the Black Pearl _which I originally cut because I wanted to get on with the story proper. They're all Victoria-centric, but James too, because I wanted to write them before he realised he loved her, before she thought she had a chance and before they became all each other had.

* * *

Her brother lay weak and sleeping in the bunk next to hers, but Victoria Turner was bright and awake. She slipped out of her bunk and laid her hand on Will's. He stirred slightly and turned his head to her, forcing his eyes open, frowning to focus on her. His fingers tightened in hers and he made to sit up, but she pushed him back down with a thump.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to check you're all right. The surgeon said you have to rest."

She fidgeted, shifting from one foot to the other, feeling the worn wood beneath her feet.

"I feel all right."

"That Elizabeth Swann was with you right 'til she had to go to bed."

"Was she?"

"Mmmm," Victoria frowned; feeling slightly put out by that sudden look of delight on Will's face. "She said she would come down and read to you if you were up to it today. I'm going to explore the ship – Lieutenant Norrington said he would give me a tour."

"All right, Vicky, I'll see you later."

"Yes. Well, go back to sleep. You need your rest, remember?"

She glowered at her brother as he snuggled back down under the covers. She threw her clothes on and combed her hair with her fingers, scrabbling under the bunk for her lost ribbon, coaxing her tangled curls back, hoping she looked presentable.

The dawn was breaking and sparkling on the lapping waves around the _Dauntless_. There was a fine mist in the air, already beginning to evaporate in the growing sunlight. She curled her hands around the rail and leaned forward, grinning at the distant horizon, enjoying the loll of the ship beneath her.

She felt a large hand close firmly around her shoulder and pull her back.

"Do not lean out so far, Miss Turner," Lieutenant Norrington said.

She might have argued with anyone else, but he was smiling and she realised it was worry, not a desire to spoil her enjoyment that caused him to say it. The thought that he worried for her sent warmth down into her toes and made her stand up a little straighter.

"Good morning, Lieutenant."

"Good morning, Miss Turner. I trust you slept well?"

"Perfectly well, thank you."

"Your brother is well?"

"Yes. I believe Miss Swann is going to read to him later."

"And you do not intend to join them?"

"I doubt there would be much room for me."

Norrington paused, seeing the flicker of hurt that passed across her face. She was very pale and thin, he noticed suddenly. Even more pale under that untidy thicket of dark hair and her face was almost gaunt.

"Have you eaten, Miss Turner? I believe there is porridge for breakfast."

"Oh, that would be wonderful."

"I doubt you would enjoy taking it with the other sailors, so shall I bring a bowl to your cabin?"

"Couldn't I have it here?" she asked, completely unaware that Lieutenants were not in the habit of bringing porridge to the rooms of people they had picked up in the middle of the ocean.

"If you wish."

"Will you join me, Lieutenant?"

He paused again, feeling the same murmur of amusement at her formality he had felt the day before when she had extended her hand to him. But she was looking at him solemnly, clearly making a genuine offer and clearly expecting him to take her seriously.

"I would be delighted, Miss Turner."

They nursed the bowls of hot porridge rather longer than they normally would have. Victoria had many questions and James liked to answer correctly.

"We calculate that we shall reach Port Royal in a week, Miss Turner."

"And what is Port Royal like, Lieutenant?"

"I truly have no idea. It will be an adventure for us all."

She fell silent and stirred the porridge round the bowl before eating a large spoonful.

"What will Will and I do in Port Royal?" she asked softly, stirring her porridge again.

"A situation will be found for you and your brother."

"Separately?"

There was a note of worry in her voice and James, inexplicably, found himself soothing it.

"If you fear being separated from your brother, Miss Turner, I give you my word it shall not happen."

A smile darted across her face and she was grinning at him, the pale, lean face that was so like her brother's suddenly became pretty and he found himself smiling back.

"Victoria," she said. "My name is Victoria. You may use it."

Again, her solemn formality made him want to laugh, but a desire not to hurt her feelings overwhelmed it.

"In that case, Victoria, you may call me James."


	2. Scene 2

_**A Line In The Sand: Deleted Scenes  
**_**Scene 2: When James Became An Engaged Man**

The smile on his face was what broke Victoria's heart. Only one who knew him as well as she did would have noticed it, it was a swift upward curve of his lips after a moment of blank incomprehension. And then he was Commodore again and Jack was offering him his wrists.

When James and Elizabeth, now officially engaged, walked to the rail Victoria stood watching them for a moment, barely noticing that Jack was being hauled to the brig. She retreated to the opposite side of the deck and sank down onto the boards. She studied the sleeves of her shirt and, feeling slightly disgusted at the dingy colour of Will's once-white shirt, rolled the sleeves up her arms. Her head ached and she envied Elizabeth's ability to hold all that rum and still have a plan. Victoria had been sick twice the night before, choking on the smoke fumes as she and Elizabeth had stoked their bonfire.

Elizabeth had been certain that the Navy would find them – any naval ship that happened to be passing, in search of the missing Governor's daughter. But Victoria's certainty had been deeper, more specific – she knew that James would find them, that James would search tirelessly to bring Elizabeth home safe.

Victoria saw him flash Elizabeth that rare grin and felt something lurch inside her, perhaps hurting more than before because she was the one normally on the receiving end of that grin. She had prided herself on it, comforted herself with the fact that she could tease it out of him better than anyone else.

Victoria had always known her dreams would come to nought, but she had nurtured them nonetheless. James had once leant her his copy of _Odysseus _and over several long months had explained what she couldn't understand. When she finally came to hand the book back, it was Penelope she longed to be. Always faithful. Waiting for him to come home to her.

James left Elizabeth, still nursing a smile on his lips and made for his cabin as Elizabeth drifted like a ghost towards Victoria.

"Oh, Elizabeth, what have you done?"

Elizabeth blinked slowly, as though to bring Victoria into focus.

"Will wouldn't want you to…" Victoria tailed off. She had intended to say "sacrifice yourself," but she couldn't use those words in relation to marrying James, however true they might be for Elizabeth.

"Will would want to live," Elizabeth said, not meeting Victoria's eyes.

"There are other ways…"

"I will marry him, Victoria," Elizabeth said firmly. "Whether or not he turns this ship around."

"He will, of course he will, if you have asked him to. He would do anything for you."

Elizabeth looked at her suddenly and felt an accusing and sharp kick in her stomach as she realised that Victoria's face was taut not only with worry for her brother, but also with grief.

"Victoria, I'm… sorry."

"For what?" Victoria shrugged. "My brother saved us from Barbossa and his men. You just saved my brother's life. I should be thanking you. You've been a good friend to us, Elizabeth Swann."

She brushed past her, making blindly for the brig, thinking she might visit Jack, for want of anything better to do.

"Where are you going?"

"To the brig," Victoria answered, barely registering the man at her side until he caught her arm gently.

"To see Sparrow?"

She looked up at the man and realised it was James, lips pursed in disapproval.

"Yes," she replied, feeling brutal. "I feel I owe him thanks. He was a perfect gentleman on that island. And my congratulations to you, James. Elizabeth is a… fine woman."

"Indeed," she waited for his smile, but he was frowning at her, confused by all her latent hostility. "Victoria, are you all right?"

"I'm worried about Will, that's all. I ought to be with him. They would have taken us both if they knew we were Turners. But he lied and said I was Elizabeth's sister. The fools didn't seem to notice my resemblance to Will."

"Of course," he let go of her arm, giving his hand an odd look as though he had forgotten he had left it resting on the bare flesh of her forearm. "Your brother has always been concerned for your safety; it does not surprise me at all that he lied about your identity to save you... Victoria, I - I wish you to know something."

"Yes?" she prompted as he paused to frame his statement.

"I am not only going back for Elizabeth's sake. I am going back for you – as my friend. I would have gone back for your sake alone," he paused again, still uncertain and Victoria, reading him like a book as usual, knew he was wondering how far he could go within the limits of propriety. "I once gave you my word that I would never see you separated from your brother. I have not forgotten it."

"I know that. Thank you, James."

She extended her hand to him, as she had done years ago, trying not to be hurt by his honour. He took her hand, feeling the difference in its size and how it fitted into his. He was not to know that Lieutenant Gillette would receive a hearty punch from that hand as he hauled Victoria and Elizabeth into the Commodore's quarters later that night.


	3. Scene 3

**_A Line In The Sand: Deleted Scenes_  
Scene 3: The Night Before The Hanging**

It was with a thrill of surprise and relief that James recognised the slender figure at the quayside on his evening walk. He drew closer, the figure remaining as still as ever. It wasn't until he was close enough to see the moonlight shining on the fingers clamped round her sides that he spoke.

"I have not seen you out here for many nights."

"I have remained at home. I have a lot of cleaning to catch up on."

She did not look at him, her arms remained wrapped around her waist, fingers clenching in her sides. Her eyes remained locked on the distant horizon, scanning it intently.

"Will you be there tomorrow?" he asked tentatively.

"At Jack's hanging?" finally she looked at him. "Of course I will. I owe him that much."

She began to walk away, but it was a slow walk and she was not heading in the direction of the blacksmiths. He took it as an invitation and in two long strides he was at her side again.

"You do not agree with the sentence?"

"There's hardly a point in my choosing to agree or disagree – it is the sentence that is passed on every pirate. But, I agree with it about as much as Miss Swann does."

She shot him a shrewd look and he swung his gaze away, feeling the familiar burn of embarrassment when she made some startlingly accurate comment.

"You are correct. Miss Swann believes his actions merited a pardon."

"And you do not?"

"He is a pirate…"

"He is a scallywag and no more. A lying, mischievous, thieving, conning scally. And a good man."

"A good man?" James was exasperated. For as long as he had known her, Victoria Turner had been that rare breed – a good-humoured girl with a level head. He had respected her good sense and felt a kinship with that unselfish element in her character that meant she placed her brother before anything else, in the same why he tried to put others before his own desires. Yet here she was, getting sentimental about a pirate. And not just any pirate – the infamous Jack Sparrow no less. It gave him an odd sort of twisted twinge in his chest.

"Not by your standards, James. But even if I were to compare him to you, he would still be a good man. He is selfish and you are not. But you both do the right thing. You do it without thought or question. Jack avoids it, attempts to sneak around it, but he does the right thing in the end. My father was a pirate, James, and my mother was a governess before she married. She was the sweetest, gentlest woman I ever knew. She could not have married anything less than good man. That is how I know that a pirate can be a good man."

James swallowed, this revelation about her father hanging in the air between them. She was watching him carefully, as though waiting for him to walk away, repulsed to discover that pirate blood ran in her veins. It ought to have bothered him more, but he found that he hardly considered it important. In fact, he found himself, not ignoring it exactly, but not referring to it.

"I am sorry that your… friend will hang, for your sake," he said finally. "Perhaps it would be best if you did not witness it," he added after a taunt silence.

"I couldn't live with such cowardice. Excuse me, James, it is a chilly night. I'll walk no further with you. Good evening."

"Good evening," he replied, though she had already strode away.

He stood for a long time, feeling oddly lopsided without her at his side.


	4. Scene 4

**_A Line In The Sand: Deleted Scenes  
_Scene 4: The Night Before James Sailed**

The following night, he found her at the quayside again. She was not as still as the night before, there was a restlessness about her in the way she tossed her breeze-blown hair back from her face, scraping it out of her eyes with quick jerks of her fingers.

She hadn't heard him coming and was startled to find him at her side. She looked away, but he caught the suddenly darkening of her face and knew she was blushing.

"I thought you would be planning strategy," she said, but though her comment was light, her voice was strangled.

"You begin to sound like Gillette."

"Heaven forbid…" she glanced at him, then away, and then seemed to force herself to look at him. "Will told me you withdrew your commissions from Brown and placed them with him."

"I had Lieutenant Groves deal with it."

Tonight, it was he who began walking and Victoria who had to dart after him to catch up.

"But it was your doing?"

"There is little point commissioning Mr Brown for anything when your brother does all the work. I hear Mr Brown was rather put out."

"Yes. He was packing his things when I returned home. Will offered to let him stay, but Brown said he wouldn't. I heard from Mr Lennon in the marketplace that he went up to Widow Norton's house."

James's expression tightened into one of disapproval.

"I think you and your brother will be much happier without Mr Brown. And your brother will make a success of himself."

Victoria caught the note of bitterness and felt her heart twist as it did on the fort when she stood watching James walk away from her brother and Elizabeth. She had felt an odd pull then - a desire to follow and comfort James struggled against the wish to be happy that her brother had found the woman he loved. In the end she had neither followed James nor congratulated Will, choosing a walk through the marketplace instead.

But now, without Will on her other side, her choice was easy.

"James, I am sorry."

"For aiding your brother in Sparrow's escape?" he arched an eyebrow at her and to her astonishment, sounded vaguely amused.

"Yes. And for what happened with Elizabeth."

"I was a fool to expect anything else," the amusement vanished and he frowned down at his feet.

"Why? She made you a promise and she fully intended to keep it, of that I am certain. You are a man worthy of a good wife – it is not foolish to expect it," she could not help her indignation. It burst from her before she had a chance to temper it.

"You have always thought too highly of me."

"Never," she replied fiercely and the loyalty in her warmed him. "I was very proud of you today, James, when you turned from Sparrow – any other man would have gone after him then and there, in vengeance. But you did not."

"One must consider one's actions."

"Please, James, do not philosophise with me. You are not a malicious man, that is the truth. Deep down you knew hanging Jack was wrong."

"We have no laws that say a scallywag ought to hang," he smiled at her and she wished she could return it.

"Perhaps not. But our laws do state that traitors should."

"You consider yourself a traitor? You shouldn't. Governor Swann pardoned you."

"I did what I believed to be right," she said, waving her hand to brush aside the small matter of a pardon. "It is not treachery to the crown that troubles me. I have let _you_ down, James."

"You did nothing less than what I expected. Perhaps, if I am honest, I would have been disappointed had you done anything else."

"Nevertheless, one day I shall make it up to you."

"There is no need, Victoria," he sighed and suddenly looked exhausted. She wondered if he had rested at all or eaten and cursed the zealous Gillette, who no doubt had tired him out with questions. James rubbed his temples before continuing. "You acted as it is in your nature to act. I must go; there are things that need tending too. Groves found a new cabin boy; I must speak to him to be certain he is acceptable."

"He is a _new_ cabin boy, then?"

"Yes. Edward Smith."

"I know him."

"And you think he will make a good sailor?" there was a hopeful note in James's voice and as the moon passed from behind a cloud, she saw the desperate need for sleep on his face and she took ruthless advantage of it.

"Yes," she nodded firmly. "He has an adventurous spirit, but he is used to doing precisely what he is told. No doubt he would flourish under your command."

"Ah. Well, in that case, perhaps I will return to my maps."

"Perhaps you should rest," she said gently, grabbing his hand and drawing him to a halt. "There is plenty of time in the morning to make final decisions and I don't doubt you have everything decided already. You will wear yourself out, James."

"What would I do without you to command me, Miss Turner?"

"Neither sleep nor eat. Go. I wish you luck on your voyage, James. I look forward to your safe return."

"Good night, Victoria," he replied, giving the hand she had slipped into his a gentle squeeze.

She stood and watched him until he disappeared into the darkness, then she hurried home.

Her brother was asleep and had been since before she had gone out. She peeked into his room and felt her heart throb warmly at the little smile on his face. She left his door half open, not daring to close it lest it creaked and gave her away.

She packed her clothes quickly, throwing the cast-offs Will had given her into a plain sack. She changed quickly, into the neatest breeches she could find, tucking her shirt smoothly into the waistband and throwing a thin coat on top. She had a hat, a battered sort of thing that Will gave her to tuck her hair under when she was working and she put it on now, pulling it as low as she could so her face was thrown into shadow.

She couldn't help but hesitate again at Will's door and after a moment of indecision, decided to leave him a note.

Will Turner was still asleep when his sister caught hold of Edward Smith on his way to the _Dauntless_ and bribed him with a small bag of coins to allow her to take his place on the ship.

When Will finally awoke, it was to find a note on the floor by his bed.

_Do not worry for me. _

_Victoria._


	5. Scene 5

_**A Line In The Sand: Deleted Scenes  
**_**Scene 5: How James Came To Sail Through A Hurricane**

Author's Note: I was going to write this as a stand-alone piece within the film canon, but I thought I could just as easily use it as a deleted scene. This is my interpretation of what happened to make James reckless enough to sail through a hurricane, although, of course, in film canon, Victoria Turner is not there to witness it.

* * *

James realised who Edward Smith was towards the end of the first day, when he was inspecting the ship. The cabin boy was taller than he had expected and there was something familiar in the particular motion he was using for swabbing the deck. The boy put a hand up to push his long fringe out of his eyes and tuck it under his hat when James caught a glimpse of the face. Immediately the blue eyes snapped away from his and became intent on their task.

It took James less than a second to make the connection. He himself had taught her how to be a good sailor, her lessons starting on the passage to Port Royal and continuing in the stories of his men he had told her on their walks. On the passage, she had gleefully helped swab the decks of the _Dauntless_, her merry laughter making him grin as she surveyed the damp front of her dress.

He did not mention Victoria Turner's presence to her or his men, thought her safety was constantly in his mind and he felt an odd prickle of pride when he heard Master Smith praised.

The days passed with no hint of the _Black Pearl_ before them and James became restless, wondering how it could be that one day's head start could have put so much distance between them. Perhaps Victoria's presence on board made him more restless, knowing she was so close that he could talk to her, but was unable to.

Their first glimpse of the _Pearl_ came two weeks after they set out and James's heart leapt, thinking they could return to Port Royal soon and no harm would be done. But Jack gave him the slip.

It was to become a familiar pattern and James began to feel something new – a sense of mounting panic and desperation. How many times would Jack escape before his men started questioning him? How many times before even Gillette began to wish they could give up this wild goose chase?

And yet he couldn't go back to Port Royal empty-handed. What a fool he would look – especially before Elizabeth and Will Turner.

He thought of Victoria's loyalty – that unwavering belief she had in his abilities and he soldiered on. Determined to catch Jack Sparrow – increasingly determined to catch him or die trying. Because something else was stirring along with that ever present worry for her safety – a wish not to fail while she was there to witness it.

The men had grown restless by the time they reached Tripoli, but James's zeal had reached maddening proportions. When the weather changed, it was Groves who came to him, a feeling of relief making him feel light.

"Commodore Norrington, it's a hurricane. Unmistakable, sir."

Groves knew James of old. He was certain James would not be foolhardy enough to sail through a hurricane, but he knew just as well that James was unlikely to turn back without good reason. And in the darkening sky, the uneasy rumble of the waves below them, Groves thought he had found the reason.

The word "hurricane" bit into James and he considered for a long moment. He had never once sailed his men into any danger that he felt they were unequal to and he would never have sailed them into a hurricane. He had never done it before – valuing their lives higher than anything else.

But James also knew Tripoli. He knew it as well as Jack Sparrow could know it. And hurricanes in Tripoli were rare. Not exactly unheard of, but rare. Jack would sail through the storm, thinking James too weak to follow. But James was no fool – his men could survive a mere storm, they had survived worse. He would show Jack Sparrow that he knew how unlikely it was that they would hit a hurricane off the coast of Tripoli.

"Then we sail through it, Lieutenant, as Sparrow undoubtedly will."

Groves blinked, as though not quite certain he had heard correctly, but he nodded and walked away to convey the message to Gillette.

It was as James was returning to his cabin that he noticed "Edward Smith" and realised with a lurch that he hadn't thought of her at all.


	6. Scene 6

_**A Line In The Sand: Deleted Scenes  
**_**Scene 6: How James Came To Lose His Sword**

Author's Note: This occurs about halfway through Chapter 2 of _A Line In The Sand_, after James calls Victoria's name and holds her as they are washed overboard, but before he becomes a drunken wreck who tries to kiss her.

* * *

Victoria was conscious when they came within sight of a merchant vessel; she too kicked hard at the water to propel them and their small plank of wood towards it. James still had one arm curled tightly around her waist as he squinted up at the men peering over the sides of the ship at them and tightened his hold on her. He didn't let go as they were dragged on board until she slid out of his arms and pushed him away, falling to her knees to splutter and breathe deeply. He stood swaying, feeling the sucking weight of his uniform on him. He was stunned to find his sword still sheathed at his side and he raised a hand to his head to find he still had his wig and hat. He had to tug his hat off, feeling the sucking squelch as it released his wig, before finally crumbling at Victoria's side.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Fine," she coughed, wiping her mouth with a trembling hand. "Are you?"

He nodded, wishing she would look away. The Captain of the ship pushed through his men, peering at them closely and James pushed himself upright to face him. Victoria touched her hair nervously, tucking stray wisps under her hat and tried to stand up at James's side. He reached down to put his arm around her waist, because her legs were trembling violently and he found himself so exhausted that leaning on her slightly was helpful.

"I know your face, sir," the Captain said suddenly. "Would I be right in saying you are Commodore Norrington of Port Royal?"

James nodded wearily and it was only when the Captain shot a curious glance at Victoria that James found his voice.

"This is Edward Smith, a cabin boy. We were caught in a hurricane and I ordered my men to abandon ship. Master Smith and I have been adrift for nearly two days."

The Captain muttered to a crewmember who nodded and hurried away. The Captain smiled and extended a hand to James.

"Captain John Trimble. You are welcome aboard the Edinburgh Trader."

"Thank you, Captain," James replied, grasping his hand. "May I ask what your next port of call is?"

The Captain looked a little nervous and didn't answer for a moment. The crewmember he had dispatched returned with a mug of water each and some food which Victoria snatched greedily from his hands.

"I'm afraid our first port of call is Tortuga, Commodore. I have business there," his lip curled slightly in distaste. "We sail for Port Royal after that, we would be more than happy to take you there."

"I understand, Captain. We would be much obliged if you would -"

But the clank of a tin mug interrupted him and James made a grab for Victoria whose legs had given out beneath her. The movement brought him to his knees too, his precious water spilling across the deck.

"Forgive me, Commodore, for keeping you talking. Ogilvy – take the Commodore and Master Smith to rest."

* * *

When they docked in Tortuga, James had replaced his shoes with boots and wore new breeches and shirt, as had Victoria, donated by the kind Captain who had so appreciated the work they had done aboard his ship. James's sword, however, that perfect balance and delicate filigree that he had studied until his eyes ached, remained at his side.

"You say your next port of call is Port Royal, Captain Trimble," James said, falling into step beside the Captain as they wound their way through the streets to what Trimble assured them was a quiet tavern.

"Yes, sir. We sail at dawn tomorrow, I'll stay no longer in this place than I have to," Trimble glowered around and tightened his hold on his leather satchel and business papers.

"I know, Captain."

James gave Trimble a polite smile as he held the door of the tavern open for him and Victoria. As they found a table James wondered whether he ought to send Victoria back with Captain Trimble and his men. But he entertained the notion only briefly. Victoria would have to travel without a chaperone and there was always a chance they might discover she was a woman. James preferred to keep her with him until he could ensure her safe and proper return to Port Royal and her brother.

"Captain, I wonder if I may ask a favour of you? I have heard your name spoken with respect in Port Royal and I believe I can trust you to take a letter for me, to be delivered to Governor Swann."

"I thought you would be coming with us?" Trimble replied and Victoria gave James a sharp, searching look.

"No, Captain. I shall stay in Tortuga," his tone indicated this was not a decision for Trimble to pry into. "I would pay you for your trouble, of course," he added, beginning to search his pockets, carefully avoiding Victoria's gaze.

"No, sir, I would not dream of it," Trimble waved his hands vehemently. "You have made it safe for men such as myself to sail without fear of pirates; therefore I think I can do you this turn."

"Thank you, Captain. Could I trouble you for writing materials?"

"Certainly, Commodore."

Trimble searched his satchel and set his writing materials down in front of James and stood up, "I shall give you your privacy, Commodore Norrington."

Trimble frowned a little at Victoria as he walked away, obviously thinking that Master Smith ought to detach himself from the Commodore's side for five minutes at least.

"Thank you, Captain Trimble."

Victoria stared at the writing equipment the man laid before James and James did not trouble himself to explain to her what he was doing. He began writing straight away, the words coming swiftly and easily, as though he had been planning this letter all his life.

"Oh, James!" she gasped. "_Resign my position as Commodore in His Majesty's Navy_? Surely not? James!"

She put her hand on the paper, forcing him to look up at her. A lock of dirty hair hung down, clinging to her cheek, her shirt was thin and only saved from indecency by the coat she had drawn even tighter around herself. He had brought her to this.

"I was foolhardy, Victoria. I was driven to madness and ordered my men to sail through a hurricane; I do not know how many deaths that caused. Perhaps I shall never know. Tell me that is not my fault, Victoria."

Her mouth opened, but she only made a feeble noise and closed it. For the first time, Victoria Turner had no words of comfort and support for him. For the first time, she was unable to condone and applaud his behaviour.

"But, resigning your commission, James…"

"I have failed in my duty as an officer. The moment I let my own desires overtake my duty I was no longer worthy of my office."

He took advantage of her silence to sign the letter and roll it up. She stared at him, as he placed the letter and his sword before Captain Trimble and thanked him again for his trouble.

He ordered two bottles of rum, sat down opposite Victoria, sipped the rum, and pulled a face. By the time Captain Trimble and his crew left, James had finished his rum and that night, he and Victoria had a sword each.

Neither of them ever realised that no mention of Victoria Turner had been made in James Norrington's letter of resignation.


	7. Scene 7

_**A Line In The Sand: Deleted Scenes  
**_**Scene 7: How Will Turner Learnt Victoria Was Dead**

Elizabeth's face fell as she saw her father standing so grave and silent at the window of their drawing room. She put a hand on Will's arm and a quick frown told him to stay where he was.

"Father, is everything all right?"

"Captain Trimble, a merchant, just delivered this letter. He also delivered this."

Governor Swann picked up a sword from the small table by the window and turned to face his daughter and her fiancé, holding it flat on his open palm.

"That's Norrington's!" Will said, starting forward to snatch it out of the Governor's hand. He brought it up close to his face, studying the filigree. "I would know that work anywhere – Victoria slaved over it."

"The letter, Father," Elizabeth said, her heart thumping so hard it seemed to echo in her ears. "You said there was a letter."

"It is James Norrington's resignation."

"And what mention does it make of Victoria?" Will asked, lowering the sword.

"There is no mention," Governor Swann raised his hands and let them drop helplessly. "I'm sorry, my boy, he doesn't mention her."

"He must!" Will dropped the sword on the sofa, heedless of his workmanship and took the offered letter. "She is with him, I know it! If he survived that hurricane, she must have too – she must have!"

Will scanned the letter desperately, but he found no mention of his sister in the dry formalities. Elizabeth's soft hands guided him to a chair and he sank into it, feeling the heat seep out of his body and gooseflesh rise along his arms.

"He would have mentioned her, Will," Elizabeth said. "So she can't have gone with him."

"And where else would she have gone?" Will demanded, speaking sharply to Elizabeth for the first time. "She would not have left for anyone else. And she left the morning he sailed."

"Perhaps she is with another sailor. We still have not heard from Lieutenant Gillette," Governor Swann offered. "There is every chance she is safe with him."

The letter slipped from Will's hands and Elizabeth knelt at his side. She picked the letter up, glanced at it and cast it aside. Something in Will started up suddenly in accusation.

"I ought to have known if she… I ought to have felt it… But I have been so busy with the wedding plans and the blacksmiths and I trusted her good sense…"

"Why shouldn't you trust her good sense?" Elizabeth asked gently. "She has always been sensible and she is as able a swordsman as you. You could not have predicted this."

"She is my sister. I ought to have worried more. I ought to have gone after her the moment I found she had gone."

"And she would not have come back with you," Elizabeth said firmly. "She was not as confident as you or I in defying the Commodore. You know as well as I do that she has always nursed an unswerving loyalty to him."

This was the first time that Will's instincts had been voiced aloud. He had always ignored the way Victoria would defend the Commodore against his sharp humour, the way she would be full of what the Commodore had said, or the book he was going to lend her. He had certainly never paused to consider who came first for her - himself or James Norrington.

"A loyalty he has never returned," Will answered, hating Norrington more powerfully than he had ever done in his life. "He ought never to have let her aboard."

"Will, my boy, I hardly think it likely that Commodore Norrington knew she was aboard. Perhaps that is why there is no mention of her."

Will didn't answer for a long while, allowing Elizabeth to slip her hands into his and hold them tightly. She felt slightly nauseous, as though she ought to have known that this would happen, as though she ought to have warned Will that his sister would follow Norrington. She had seen that expression of lost hope on Victoria's face when she had accepted James's proposal.

"Will, I am so sorry."

"We will postpone the wedding," Will said. "We must."

"Of course," Elizabeth nodded and reached up to wrap her arms around him.

Something about Elizabeth's femininity, the long skirts, the upsweep of her hair, reminded Will that he had lost the companion he had known all his life. His sister, who had glowered at Brown for his sake, who had followed him to save Elizabeth, who had helped his hatch his plan for Jack's escape. The girl who sparred with him and pushed him hard so that he improved. The tears started into his eyes and he clutched at Elizabeth as her father slipped silently from the room, picking up the letter and sword.

One of the first questions Bootstrap Bill Turner asked his son was answered with a lie in as cheery a voice as Will could manage.

"And your sister? How is she?"

"Fine. Beautiful. Safe."

* * *

**_The End._**


End file.
